


Crimson Shirt

by ohimadeitallup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Crazy, Firefighter Dean, Fluff, M/M, airport, also baby turns baby-in-law!, just fluff, mindless, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohimadeitallup/pseuds/ohimadeitallup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's flight is running late, and Dean is nervous. Based on the song "Dancing at the Terminal" by The Icarus Account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimson Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Wow my very first fic! It's mindless, really. No plot whatsoever. Just fluff. Loads of it. And some crying. I don't even know what more to say, but thanks for reading it and I hope you like it! And of course please please please leave critique? Or even prompts! Lots of prompts!
> 
> Thanks! <3

The summer breeze, warm and humid, tickled the back of Dean’s neck as he waited patiently- well, that is if you consider the constant jiggling of his left thigh and periodic sighing to be patient. Cas was meant to be here an hour ago, damn it, why was it taking the flight so long to land? Bottle green eyes darted towards the gate- for the fifth time in the last thirty seconds- hoping to see a mop of black hair in the crowd. No such luck yet. He hated airports. Sighing again, he touched the pocket of his leather jacket- definitely not obsessing, just making sure. 

The crazy rush of travellers and their suitcases was all around him, a strong smell of coffee that permeated the air taking him back to their first date. Castiel had worn this crimson shirt that shifted as he moved, bunching around his waist where it had been tucked into perfectly fitting black jeans. The red had provided such a stark contrast to his azure eyes, and Dean had been blinded by just how beautiful a sight it had been. He’d fallen before he could even dive, and the second Cas said his name in that deep, gravel-y voice, Dean had known he would never regret it. 

The sudden announcement of arrival on the PA system brought him out of his reverie, his heart beginning to jackhammer, and it took him three tries and a considerable amount of will power to actually get up from the metal chair.

“Keep it together, Winchester,” he mumbled to himself. “You’ve pulled babies out of infernos at the bat of an eyelid. You can do this.” He wasn’t sure he was convincing himself.

The steady staccato of his breathing was loud in his ears, when he spotted it- that all too familiar mop of black hair he was looking for. Suddenly, everything seemed to slow down, a strange calm passing over the scene. Blue eyes met green, and a dazzling smile blinded the rest of the world to Dean. 

“Cas,” he breathed, feet carrying him towards the shorter man of their own accord.

“Dean!” Castiel cried, pacing forward with a duffel bag on his shoulder.

The crowd cleared some more and now Dean could see all of him and- damn, Castiel was wearing that red shirt! It was all Dean could do not to shove the remainder of the people out of their way and just cling to his boyfriend, consequences be hanged.  
When they’d finally managed to thread their way towards each other, strong arms wrapped around Dean’s neck and pulled him close, the fresh scent of aftershave hitting his nostrils. His own arms went around Castiel’s waist in some sort of Pavlovian response.

“Hi,” Castiel whispered into his neck, placing a chaste kiss there, and Dean forgot how to breathe.

“Hey you,” he managed to croak back, and wondered if he’d ever find the necessary co-ordination to be able to do what he’d planned to do next. “How was the great big family shindig?” he asked instead.

Castiel chuckled and pulled back a little, looking at Dean’s face now. “Do you really care?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Well of course I care!” Dean spluttered. “They’re your family! They’re important to you-”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupted in that ‘cut the crap’ way of his, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“Yes alright,” he conceded. “They’re arrogant dicks and I hate them. But you did have a nice time, right?”

“Right,” Castiel agreed and leaned in for a kiss.

“Wait,” Dean interrupted, less than an inch between their lips. If he kissed Cas now, there was no way he could stop, and no way in hell he’d have the brain capacity to do The Thing.

“What?” Castiel asked, head tilting to a side in that- there was no other word for it- Cas way.

“I just uh…” he said, which, okay, wasn’t the cleverest sentence he’d come up with. Damn it all to hell. He stepped back just enough to give himself room to breathe, then took Castiel’s hands in his own.

“Dean what-”

“Castiel Novak,” he began, then took a deep breath. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me- and that includes Ellen’s home-made apple cinnamon pies.”  
A bark of confused laughter escaped Castiel’s throat. “What are you doing?”

“Now I know I haven’t been the easiest of men to live with,” Dean continued. “I come home at absurd hours, more often than not smelling of smoke and ashes. Hell I wouldn’t wanna live with me. But you do. You take it, and you take my annoyingly loud music, and you take my stupid beer addiction and now-” he pulled the little black box out of his pocket.

“Dean,” Castiel gasped, eyes wide and fixed on said box, mouth parted in an ‘O’. The duffel bag fell off his shoulder and landed at his feet. Neither of them noticed.

“Now,” he forced himself to continue, because he was almost there. “I want you to take my last name.” Kneeling down on one knee, Dean opened the box, revealing a plain silver ring with a small diamond encrusted in it. “Cas,” he said, voice quivering a little, and damn it those were not tears stinging in the backs of his eyes.

“Yeah?” Castiel whispered back, and he was full-blown, tears down his cheeks crying, and shit shit Dean had to take deep breaths to keep from cracking completely.

“Marry me,” he rasped finally, emotions turning his voice thick and clumsy.

The words seemed to spur Castiel to sobbing, one hand coming up to cover his mouth as he nodded frantically through tears. “Yes!” he gasped. “Yes of course yes!”

Swallowing in relief, Dean stood back up, a wide grin lighting up his face, and Castiel pulled it towards his own, holding it in place and kissing him fervently. A huge round of applause rang around them, suddenly dropping them back to reality. Castiel blushed and pressed his face into Dean’s neck for a bit, inhaling that comforting smell of leather and soap, then pulled back a little, holding forward his left hand. Dean looked at it blankly, then it struck him. Fumbling a little, he pulled the ring out of the box and slid it on to Castiel’s finger, both their hands shaking.

Grabbing Castiel’s face, Dean placed another desperate kiss on his lips, then his cheek and hugged him in that bear-hug way he has- not something Castiel minded one bit! “I love you,” he whispered, and knew he meant it- meant it every time he said it, and would continue to mean it every time.

“I love you too,” Castiel whispered back. “And I’ll love you more if you take me home and let me show you just how much I missed you this week.”

Dean chuckled and pulled away (reluctantly, but he’d never admit it), grabbing Castiel’s duffel off the floor and slinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, Princess,” he said, “your chariot awaits.” Taking Castiel’s hand- with his ring on it now, thank you very much- in his own, he began to walk them towards his car. Baby was going to be a Baby-in-law!

Castiel rolled his eyes at his new fiancé and said the only word in all of Creation that covered the entirety of his feelings towards Dean.

“Assbutt.”


End file.
